“Yeah, I think I can,” Cade murmured in agreement. She closed her own eyes, just listening to his heartbeat. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“I’m not. If it hadn’t happened, it’d never have set off the chain of events that led to where we are now,” Brandt said. “While the circumstances suck unbelievably, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Cade lifted her head so Brandt could see the disbelieving look on her face. “Are you serious?”
“Well, yeah,” Brandt said, not sounding the least bit uncomfortable with his own statement. “I’ve always been a firm believer in the idea that things happen for a reason. Might not be things we like, and it might not be for reasons we like, but all the same, they happen. And I firmly believe I’d not be right here right now if all the shit that happened before hadn’t happened.”
Cade’s head banged against the side window as the van struck a pothole in the road. She jerked awake, blinking rapidly and trying to orient herself. It took her several moments to remember where she was, when she was, and who the hell she was with. When it all rushed back, her anger came with it. She quickly fought back the urge to lunge at the nearest warm body. Knowing her luck, she’d be promptly shot to death by the man watching her over the back of the seat in front of her—the man holding her rifle.
As she came more fully awake, the soreness in her body slammed into the forefront of her mind, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her jaw ached, both from the swelling and bruising on the side of her face and the apparent grinding of her teeth in her sleep. But none of it could compete with the overwhelming disappointment she’d experienced when she’d been so rudely woken from the wonderful dream—memory—she’d experienced in her heavy doze.
That redheaded bitch sat directly in front of her; the back of her head was presented to Cade as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Cade wondered how easily it’d be to go on the attack. Every fiber of her being desired to rip this woman a new one. She clenched her fists tightly.
No. Not yet. No matter how much Cade’s body screamed to make these people pay for Remy’s death—because she had no doubt that the younger woman was dead—she still needed answers, still needed to know what they wanted with her. And, for that matter, what they wanted with Brandt. The redhead’s line of questioning back at the safe house had indicated that whatever the woman wanted had something to do with Brandt. Cade wanted to know what that something was. She wouldn’t find out if she came out of her nap with fists swinging.
Cade sucked up her courage, stomped down her anger, and finally spoke.
“Hey,” she started, trying to get the redhead’s attention. The woman didn’t move, didn’t react to Cade’s voice. Cade grimaced and kicked the back of the woman’s seat. The redhead sucked in what sounded like a pained breath as she turned around, and Cade caught a glimpse of a needle in the woman’s arm. Oh great, I’ve been kidnapped by a bunch of fucking junkies, she thought irritably.
“What?” the woman snarled. There was so much venom in her voice that Cade instinctively recoiled from her. She swallowed the deep-seated kill, kill impulse she’d developed over the past year and soldiered on. She refused to be cowed into submission by this bitch.
“What the hell do you want with me?” Cade demanded without preamble. If she was going to go on the attack—verbally, anyway—then she was going to aim right for the jugular.
“You think I’m going to answer your questions with a shitty attitude like that?” the woman shot back. She expertly deposited the needle in a plastic sharps box stashed between the seats and, as Cade watched, took a quick swig of water and two painkillers.
“You’d better tell me something before I kick all your asses,” Cade grumbled.
“I don’t have to tell you jack shit.”
Cade fought to not kick the woman’s seat again and instead folded her arms over her chest, glaring at them all. “Well, it’d sure be incredibly helpful, so when I do kick all your asses, I’ll at least know why. Besides the obvious, that is.”
The redhead’s brilliant green eyes—almost as green as Ethan’s, Cade observed fleetingly—rolled once. “You think this has something to do with you?”
“Well, considering I’m the one you kidnapped, I figure it has a lot to do with me,” Cade argued.
“It has almost nothing to do with you,” the woman snapped. Cade saw a glimpse of anger flare up in the woman’s eyes again. The woman squeezed her eyes closed momentarily before she continued. “But it has everything to do with Michael Brandt Evans.”
The way the woman said Brandt’s name, carefully enunciating each word, raised Cade’s curiosity to new levels. “What about Brandt? What do you want with him?”
The redhead scoffed and faced the front again. “Yeah, like I have any reason to tell you anything right now.”
Cade crossed her arms again, digging her nails into her sides so she wouldn’t punch the woman in the back of her head. “So what’s your name, anyway?”
“Why do you need to know my name?” the redhead asked placidly.
“So I have something to call you other than redheaded bitch,” Cade replied. “Though I have to admit that has a nice ring to it.”
Disdain rolled off the woman in front of her. “Alicia Day,” the woman finally said. “Now shut the hell up. I have a headache, and your voice isn’t helping me get rid of it.”
Chapter 20
It took an hour longer than Brandt would have liked to set out on their journey, but it couldn’t be helped—they’d taken time to search not only the van, but the bodies of the men Remy had killed, and had recovered a couple of guns and a few spare magazines of ammunition. Remy could tell Brandt wasn’t happy about the delay by the expression on his face. Blazing anger flamed in his eyes, and his jaw was set in determination, a determination she shared. They were going after Cade, and they’d let nothing stop them from rescuing her.
As they walked to the SUV parked a couple of blocks away, Remy strained her brain as she fought to remember every frightening detail of the attack in the house. She couldn’t piece together much. In hindsight, it was all chaotic, sounds and smells and shouts, the feel of the Ruger pressing into the skin between her breasts, the man’s boot grinding into her back. And the sick, acrid taste she’d had in her mouth after she’d shot both men. And the fury that had enabled her to drag a man almost twice her size into the kitchen, haul him into a chair, and duct tape him into place.
That was the second-worst part of it, Remy decided. She hated the idea of killing the uninfected; they were survivors, just like she was, people who’d somehow managed to escape the ravenous hordes and scrounge up some semblance of a life in this awful world. But the actions of the two men who lay dead in the former safe house had only contributed to that awful world. It was likely better they were no longer in it, especially if they were going around threatening and killing their fellow human beings.
Ultimately, Remy was a survivor, just like Brandt and Cade and Gray. And she’d fight for her life when it was threatened, just like they would.
“Penny for your thoughts?” a voice asked to her right. Remy glanced to the side and saw Gray hovering at her right elbow, keeping pace with her brisk walk. She’d been so distracted she hadn’t heard his approach—an inattentiveness that would have cost her her life in any other situation. She glanced at Brandt; he walked ahead of them stoically, his back straight, his shoulders squared. The Marine in him had come out to play; Remy could see it in every inch of his demeanor.
“It’s nothing,” she answered, turning her attention back to the man beside her. His dark hair had fallen into his eyes, making him look younger than twenty-three, giving him an oddly boyish air. “I’m just … I’m worried about Cade is all.”
“Believe me, you’re not the only one,” Gray admitted. He, too, glanced at Brandt, concern in his eyes. “You think she’s even still alive?”
“I’m sure of it,” Remy said confidently.
“What makes
you so sure?”
“Because if they wanted Cade dead, they’d have killed her back in the house,” Remy pointed out. “They wouldn’t drag her off to Atlanta without a reason.”
“And what reason would they have to drag her to Atlanta in the first place?” Gray asked with no small amount of bafflement.
Remy nodded toward Brandt’s back. “I think he said it for himself. They think he’s got a cure or whatever. They’re probably using Cade as bait to lure Brandt in for whatever they want him for.”
“And it’s obviously working,” Gray said. “Because here we are, charging into an unknown situation with limited weapons and ammunition, while they have Heaven knows what on their side.”
Remy glanced at him again and saw his hand trail to the rosary dangling from his front right pocket. “I think we’ll be okay,” she tried to assure him. “I mean, we might not know what they have, but we have Brandt. And on top of that, he’s a Marine. And Marine pretty much means machine, you know.”
Gray snorted, but Remy could tell his heart wasn’t in the short snap of laughter. “That’s true,” he conceded. “Think we’ll survive this, then?”
“I think if Brandt has anything to say about it, we will,” Remy said. She gently touched the long knife sheathed at her side. “Same with me. I refuse to let us go down. At least, not without a fight.”
The three of them reached the SUV just minutes later, and Remy immediately went to the front passenger door and checked inside for anything unusual. She didn’t see anything there and so, nodding in satisfaction, she abandoned the front of the vehicle and headed to the back, where Brandt had opened the rear door to offload his bag. She dumped her own beside his, took a few moments to pull free some spare ammunition from the pack and pocket it, and then said, “Are you okay?”
“Do I look not okay or something?” Brandt asked irritably. He took Gray’s backpack and dumped it into the vehicle before slamming the door closed.
“You’re acting like you hate the world,” Remy said.
“Right now? I do,” Brandt admitted. “I’m seriously imagining every horrible death I can think of to inflict on the assholes who took Cade.” He breathed out, as if trying to calm himself. “I’ve never been so angry in my life.”
Remy squeezed Brandt’s forearm. The man deflated at the action, and Remy gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sure Cade is fine,” she said. “She’s one of the toughest people I know. Hell, I bet right now, she’s kicking all their asses so bad they won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
Chapter 21
Cade’s first chance to make a break for it came early that evening, and she’d have been an idiot if she hadn’t at least tried to take it. It was approaching dusk when Alicia ordered Cortez to pull the van over for a few minutes so they could stretch their legs at the side of the road. Much to Cade’s surprise, Alicia returned to the van after disappearing for several minutes and flung Cade’s door open. Cade nearly spilled out of the vehicle as her armrest was yanked from under her elbow.
“You need to piss?” Alicia asked shortly, looking Cade up and down as she righted herself.
Cade didn’t really have to, and she almost said no. But as she scanned their surroundings, Cade thought better of it. She nodded and slid to the edge of the seat, dropping onto the pavement. Her knees buckled as she put weight on her legs, and she grabbed the edge of the seat and steadied herself.
“Yeah,” Cade said out loud. “Where?”
“Trees,” Alicia ordered. “Where else?” She looked up and made an odd snicking noise with her tongue and teeth, beckoning with her fingers. Cortez hurried over, his hand resting on a gun at his hip. “Take her into the trees and let her do whatever she needs to do. No funny business.” She looked right at Cade and added, “Either of you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cade grumbled. Cortez grabbed her elbow and tugged at it, practically dragging her the first several feet along the side of the vehicle. Cade jerked her arm out of his grasp and grimaced at him. “I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, thank you,” she snapped.
Cortez rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply led her down the short embankment to the tree line at the side of the road, waving her into the shadow of the trees. Cade reflexively felt at her pockets for a flashlight and, of course, came up empty. Alicia had done too good a job searching her person and confiscating anything potentially useful. The only thing left was an empty knife sheath on the back right side of her belt. As Cortez led her into the trees, Cade noticed her own knife repurposed on his belt. She quickly averted her eyes. The last thing she needed was the man realizing she was looking at it. Then he might have figured out the plan that had begun to work its way into her brain.
Cortez stopped several feet into the tree line and motioned to the ground vaguely. “Do your business,” he said in a clipped, accented tone. Cade glanced back to the road, where the van was barely visible through the trees. “Don’t worry. We’re far enough away that you’ve got some privacy.”
“Thanks.” She started to unfasten her belt, glancing at the man and realizing he was still staring at her. “Do you mind, oh, I don’t know, turning the fuck around?” Cade bit out more angrily than she meant to. Not that she really cared if she was rude with these assholes. She was the one who’d been kidnapped.
It took Cortez seconds to turn his back to Cade, crossing his arms with an impatient sigh, as if he felt guard duty was beneath him. He seemed assured of his prisoner’s lack of ability to escape, though, and Cade understood why. The forest floor around them was littered with a thick carpet of dead leaves and fallen branches; trying to sneak away on ground like that would be difficult, if not outright impossible. Cade would have to take another route if she expected to escape from her captors’ clutches.
With Cortez’s back to her, it was the perfect time for Cade to launch her plan. Abandoning any pretense of “taking care of business,” Cade took three brisk steps forward. She threw herself at Cortez, jumping onto his back and wrapping both legs around his waist. She hooked her arm around his neck and pressed her forearm to his throat, grasping her wrist with her free hand as she clung to him. Cortez flailed, bucking violently in an attempt to dislodge her from his back, but she only tightened her arm around his neck and squeezed more firmly.
It felt like it took minutes for Cortez’s motions to slow as his oxygen was cut off from his brain, but in reality, Cade knew it was closer to just over a minute. As he sagged to his knees, she rode him down, still applying pressure to his neck as he collapsed to the forest floor. It was only after he’d slipped into unconsciousness that Cade released him.
As she rose from her knees, Cade’s eyes immediately darted to the tree line, where she could see the rest of the group waiting on their return. It would only be moments before they realized that a quick piss in the woods was taking much longer than it should have, and then they’d be coming in after them. She fumbled at Cortez’s belt, looking for a weapon. Unfortunately, he’d fallen on his gun, and she didn’t have time to roll him over to find it. Instead, she snatched the knife from his belt. After hesitating, contemplating killing the man to ensure he wouldn’t follow her, she slipped the knife into the sheath still on her own belt. With one last glance at the tree line, she turned and began to run deeper into the trees, her every footstep crunching loudly in her ears. Cade had only made it about twenty-five feet before she heard Alicia calling out.
“Cortez! Cortez! What the hell’s taking you so long?”
“Shit,” Cade hissed, trying to speed her flight. It was easier said than done, though; her boots were insistent on getting stuck in the soft undergrowth and dead leaves littering the ground, and her pant legs kept snagging on bushes and tree branches. She broke loose from yet another brush that grabbed her and dodged around a large tree, hiding behind it for a moment to catch her breath. Her fingers found the knife she’d stolen back, and she drew it, gripping it in her fist and struggling to breathe without making too much noi
se.
Shouts behind her caught her attention again, and she tried to focus on what was being said. It was Alicia’s voice, and while Cade couldn’t tell what every word was, she could definitely make out the curses flowing from Alicia’s mouth and the venom underlying them. She grimaced as she heard another shouted order, this one more intelligible.
“Find her! Now!” Alicia yelled. “We need her!”
“Shit,” Cade hissed again. She gritted her teeth and hesitated, glancing over her surroundings, trying to determine the best path. The best plan was probably cutting across the treed area, angling back, and taking the van. It’d give her a means of transportation, and she could try to make her way back to the safe house and warn Brandt of what was going on.
After one more deep, fortifying breath, Cade pushed away from the tree and darted forward, intending to put more distance between herself and her pursuers before trying to cut back to the highway. She darted from one tree to the next, ducking behind them and plotting her route as she went, listening to the crunch of Alicia and Dominic as they charged through the underbrush after her. She had no idea whether Cortez was up and moving yet. She had to assume he was.
It was when Cade followed through on her admittedly half-assed plan to double back to the van that things fell apart on her. As she ran back in a wide arc, attempting to circle around her pursuers, someone darted from the shadows of a large tree and tackled her. She hit the ground with bruising force, and the breath rushed from her lungs. Despite her inability to breathe, she braced her hands against the dead leaves and pushed herself up, trying to throw off the body grappling with her. Hands fumbled at her belt. The blade of a knife pressed against her neck, just below her chin, and she froze.
The Becoming: Revelations Page 11
